


Halla of Satinalia

by alicy_sunberg33



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, I tried something, Kinda?, Satinalia (Dragon Age), Smut, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22047982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicy_sunberg33/pseuds/alicy_sunberg33
Summary: Carver knows that Merrill misses her clan a lot. So he decided to prepare something for her for Satinalia with a little help from his “friends”?
Relationships: Carver Hawke/Merrill
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	Halla of Satinalia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GrumpkinVicky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpkinVicky/gifts).



> This is the secret Santa I did for my dear GrumpkinVicky, the ever patient, talented and diligent from our discord. I hope you like it dear and that it fits your wish? It’s my first smut I’m sorry if I didn’t make something more extensive in that’s regard... BUT IT’S ONLY THE BEGINNING.
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy New year to you, dear!

## Halla of Satinalia

On his days off from the Gallows, the few he managed to get, at least, Carver would meet with Merrill. 

As the first snows of the year fell on the town, she had stopped in a street where the snow had melted under the steps of the people walking with purpose and cartwheels. It became black and muddy and squished between her naked toes. She had looked non-plussed and disappointed at this sight. 

“How is it that snow gets dirty so easily here?” she asked. He didn’t exactly know the answer to that and even if he did, he wasn’t sure she wanted an answer in the first place. 

Another time she was staring outside as she stepped out of her home in the Alienage. Her gaze lifted towards the Sundermount and she would look thoughtful. And melancholic. 

In those moments, Carver knew. She missed her clan. Her family. Very much. He knew that feeling as well. 

Bethany’s hair shining in the sunset... Their father’s hand ruffling his own hair. The smell of wheat and grass from Lothering. A place he thought boring before. But he missed it now more than anything.

Merrill wanted to go back so bad. And yet every time there was a mission that would demand them to pass by Sundermount, Varric had told him, she would hesitate for long minutes before entering the Dalish camp. 

Satinalia was soon upon them. So Carver decided to do something for the sweetest person he knew in this Maker-forsaken city. 

“Why do you need pots?” Marian deadpanned, her head barely standing pass the pile of pots of varying sizes she was carrying.

“‘Why do you need so many’ would be another good one?” Fenris groaned under the weight of his own pile of pots. 

“It’s a gift for Merrill,” Carver rolled his eyes. “Just help me on this and shut it, will you?”

“Hold on,” Marian stopped. “You want to give her something for Satinalia? Do the Dalish even celebrate Satinalia?”

Carver stopped dead in his tracks, and the pile of pots he just bought in his hands wavered, fell and crashed spectacularly on the pavement at his feet. Marian winced audibly and Fenris’ ears lowered at the noise.

“Shit.” Carver whispered, staring down at his empty hands. “I haven’t thought of that...”

“Oh boy,” Marian chuckled warily. 

“If it’s any consolation,” Aveline had said as they were sitting at their usual table at the Hangman, pouring herself a cup of wine, “I think Merrill will be pleased with any gift from you, never mind it being for Satinalia.”

“Can’t believe I’m going to say those words but I agree with Red on this. You’re good, Junior.”

Carver barely gave him his usual scowl at Varric’s nickname for him, staring down at his tankard while sighing.

“So... should I do it then?”

“Yeah, go for it!!” 

“What gift did you have in mind, if you don’t mind telling us?” Aveline asked, curious.

“I’ll tell you when I’m done preparing it. I have to go. See you later on Tuesday?”

“Sure. By the way, when are you going to get all those pots out of my room?”

“And what do you plan on doing with a pick axe and a shovel?”

“...... Gardening?”

“...... Why are you hesitating?”

“Was that a question mark?”

“Can’t you go any quicker?” Carver grumbled, pacing behind Isabela, as she was crouching in front of Merrill’s door.

“Settle down, dear, you can’t rush beauty nor talent!” Isabela said jovially, tongue slightly out while she was tweaking the lock. 

“Is it absolutely necessary to forcibly enter?” Anders asked, crossing his arms below his coat and hiding them from the snow. “I mean, I don’t mind some lock picking in a stuffy noble’s place but Merrill’s...?”

“I want to surprise her, is that so hard to understand? I don’t have a key to her place and I don’t know how long we have until they come back from their mission. I asked Marian to keep her busy for the day, but they should be here soon!”

Behind the group, there was a small cartwheel filled with objects of varying size and covered by a large sheet protecting the content from the snow, quietly falling as the night started to come. 

There was a resounding clicking sound and the door opened. 

“Finally!! Now come on, let’s start unloading. The quicker, the better.”

“Well.... I realized that we could’ve get it done much earlier than that...” Isabela chuckled sheepishly.

“What do you mean.”

“How do I put this... I was so focused on trying to unlock it that I forgot... this is Kitten we’re talking about...”

“So?”

“It wasn’t even locked...”

Carver just stared at the open creaking door, then at her, and behind him Anders, for the first time in many months, let out a loud cackle, soon wheezing against the cartwheel.

“There. Now I just need to light the candles and it’ll be ready. I just hope she likes it.”

“I’m sure she will, Carver,” Anders patted his shoulder. “If anything, she will appreciate the thought.”

Isabela admired their work, then her eyes fell on Carver and she tilted her head on the side. 

“So... are you going to change, or clean up or something?”

“Oh... Do you think I should?”

“If you should? Dear, this is Satinalia’s Eve. Couples usually like to make it special, you know?”

“What?! Really? I didn’t prepare anything for that! Maker’s balls! What do I do!”

Anders and Isabela seemed to think for a moment while he was panicking. Then the mage’s eyes fell on a white wool blanket on a nearby chair and on some bare wooden branches leftover from their load.

“Hm... I think I have something in mind...”

He leaned closer to Isabela to whisper something. Carver noticed she barely turned towards Anders while he talked to her ear and looked him up and down instead. Then her smile became straight up saucy. Carver didn’t like that one bit.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that.”

Isabela put a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Do you want to make our kitten happy?”

“Obviously.”

“Well then.” Anders and Isabela grinned. “Take your clothes off.”

_Oh no._

Merrill opened the door to her home and closed it right behind her, her eyes closed, enjoying the slight difference in temperature from the outside. She was so tired from the walking and the wandering. She was always happy to spend time with Hawke but sometimes she could be hard to keep up with.

She gave a big sigh. Opened her eyes. They widened. Blinked. Still wide.

In her small abode, all along the walls and hanging from the beams above were pots. Iron, clay, wood... all kinds of pots. And in these pots were plants. Small trees, some vines, attached along the walls with cords. Plants, trees, and winter flowers along her window and hearth. Where there wasn’t plants, reddish pieces of fabric were hanging from the sides, sometime like a veil, other time like a curtain... _like the Aravels_ , she realized. Most of the trees did not have leaves but... it looked like the outside, for a moment. Outside of Kirkwall. Hanging from some of their branches were some lights.

She got closer to examine them. They were candles, encased in iron engraved cups or glass spheres. They brought light and warmth to the room. She stared in awe at all this change. 

Then when she entered her room, she found on her bed a very naked Carver, wrapped in her wool blanket, covering between his legs and his back up to his head much like a hood. And attached with some bandages two branches on each sides of his head.

Carver looked completely red now that she came in. And while managing to maintain her stare, he squeaked:

“Hey. Welcome back.”

“Carver...? What...? What’s... Did you do all this..?”

“Well... I was helped by the others of course but... yeah! Happy Satinalia!” He added with an awkward cheerfulness.

Even her room were full of winter flowers. Their resilient scent had started to fill the room. And Carver did that for her. She felt her heart swell.

“And what’s with this... get up? Is it for Satinalia as well?” she added with an amused smile, feeling herself blush, as she had a good look at his body and well honed muscles. She bit her lip. Carver felt it and enjoyed it very much while he answered:

“Kind of? Apparently... I’m supposed to be a halla.”

She stared at him. He stared at her. Then she bursted in an uncontrolled fit of giggles, which soon morphed into an actual laughter, clear, unbridled and happy, and Carver thought is was the most beautiful sound ever. Her face was getting redder and she had to scrub the corner of her eyes to get rid of some tears.

“Oh Creators,” she sighed, trying to catch her breath, then walking up to him. “What a cute halla has found their way here. You must be very lost,” she giggled and cupped his cheeks with her fresh hands.

“I don’t think so,” Carver grinned. “I think I’m very happy where I am right now.”

She looked down at him with a very fond expression. He brought his hand to hers.

“I know this can’t compare to what you’ve lost. And maybe you don’t like to be reminded of it but... I know you miss it very much... so I tried to bring a bit of your old home in your new one... Do... Do you like it?”

Merrill nodded. Then looked around in wonder. Then back at him. And gave him the sweetest kiss he could ever dream of, the kind he would bring back with him to the Gallows, and think of when the days would get too hard.

“Do you mind helping me get out of this armor?” she asked softly, when she pulled back. She was blushing and looking at him through her lashes. 

“Sure,” he smiled, completely smitten.

They didn’t mind that the wool blanket slipped of him when he stood up to expertly get rid of the buckles on her thin chain mail, of her belts, untied every knot, that he knew by heart, put away all her pouches on the bed table and brought her completely naked on his lap when he sat back on the bed. 

Merrill felt his manhood on her skin and slid her hand against it to make Carver sing like she likes to. He made the most amazing expressions when she touched him there. The rare moments when he let go of his perpetual scowl. And where she was now, she could see every change on his face, every time he bit his lower lip -and oh, she adored that expression the most because it meant that the next second she would hear the most delightful moan coming from him, the type he wasn’t able to stifle even if he wanted to-, she could hear and feel every pant against her skin, and it brought even more heat in her just by doing that. Soon her own breaths would be heard.

When she brought her thin hand on the back of his scalp, making him groan, Merrill giggled.

“What?” he asked, smiling against her mouth.

“I don’t think I will ever forget about this,” she tapped his improvised antlers, who were miraculously still on. “But I like it best when I can pass my fingers through your hair... my little halla.”

He groaned against her shoulder. “Is it my new nickname now? The others are never going to let this one down...”

“Do you want me to let it down?” she asked genuinely.

He looked up at her from the corner of his eyes, and that look was definitely not halla like.

“Don’t you dare.”

He pushed her down on the bed and while she laughed at his antics, he took off the “antlers”, and started to kiss down her body in slow, languid motions, she watched as one of the tallest man she knew, and the firmness of his body descend and slide against her skin. She felt all of it going ablaze. Then he looked up at her, and gave a rare mischievous smile, the kind that warmed her lower belly just by looking at it:

“But you’re right about those, if I had kept those on, I couldn’t really do this.”

Then he plunged his face between her legs and she spent the next ten minutes in delightful moaning agony.

The rare seconds she could open her eyes, she saw the shadows of the branches, formed by the candles all around, on the ceiling and the reddish fabrics. It felt like home. When she reached her peak, it was when she realized she was right at home. Her own little halla led her home.


End file.
